


To Keep Quiet

by OMDrawings



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Historical, M/M, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 04:59:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17822366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OMDrawings/pseuds/OMDrawings
Summary: In the dead of night, Jesse and Hanzo relished their passionate evenings. Although, sometimes they tend to drag on far too long.There are scripts to be delivered, but they don't much care when drunk off each other.





	To Keep Quiet

**Author's Note:**

> I bring you, my first completed McHanzo writing!  
> I write small plots for these two a lot with friends, but they never see the light of day. So, I thought it was time to bring a short, sweet drabble to the mix.
> 
> This story is set in an early America setting, past colonization but before the Industrial Revolution.
> 
> If you have any idea for writings, pairings, or plots that could be expanded past one chapter, I'd love to hear them! You can message me on tumblr or here in the comments.
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading!

It was too cold.

But at the same time, the air was electrified in such a heated tension McCree found himself sweating.

It had been a straight ten minutes after they came down from their initial highs, battered breaths and desperately clinging to one another for warmth within the stagecoach. Every window had been tightly sealed, as much as they could at least. Blankets that had been underneath their bodies were now uncomfortably damp. They’d change those later, though. Not while the two men were bathing in each other’s blushing glow.

A small noise of upset came close to Jesse’s ear as he shifted upwards, skimming the wooden floor blindly for one of the unfinished whiskey bottles the two had brought. Besides him an arm wrapped tightly about his waist in plea for him to return fully under the covers.

“C’mon, Han. Just let me get something t’drink before we start anything else.” But the argument was weak at best. Before he knew it, the cowboy was pulled back down into the embrace of the archer without resistance.

“Your cheap alcohol ruins the taste of your lips,” A drunken tongue peaked to nip at Jesse’s earlobe. Just how much had the two downed all in one night? It was a miracle they hadn’t passed out yet. “Besides, if you keep drinking, we will blow our cover.”

“Cover? Cover for what?”

“Cover from my brother and his wife sleeping not six horses ahead of us.” It wasn’t as if the two’s relationship had been a secret. Not with his own blood, at least. The public didn’t need to judge their closeted sins. Especially what with Jesse’s unfortunate background in the states. “If you get anymore drunk, I’ll get drunk. And then I’ll be unable to contain my own moans.”

“We have gags for a reason, Han.” A quick upturn of Jesse’s lips revealed the mischief behind his eyes. That slightly lopsided grin. Those twinkling amber eyes in the candle light. Just staring made Hanzo growl.

“You know how much I detest those garments. It makes it impossible to breathe.” The two locked eyes in the darkness. McCree’s grip lessened on the whiskey he had grabbed, setting it gently aside to fully take in the sight of his partner.

It had been a month since their last session. A whole month of keeping their hands to themselves. Of stealing glances. Watching for the other if they parted sightlines. Hungry. Waiting. So, now there they lay, sprawled on the floor with blankets and pillows blocking the cold wooden floor of a stagecoach. A vehicle meant for a wholesome shipment of newly printed bibles destined for an Iowa’s church system. Only, the irony sat in the delivery team secretly acting out sinful nights of passion not two feet from the texts.

“Uh-huh. You just don't like how you can’t kiss my neck when we get _oh_ -so close, darlin’.” What a tease. Jesse would revel in the heat rising to Hanzo’s cheeks at the comment. Especially since it opened him up to a surprise position switch.

Within seconds Jesse was looming above his black-haired lover. Their breaths had settled in the talk. Hands no longer groping but sliding down each other’s waists to feel the solidity of one another’s form. Jesse brought his right hand up, combing about Hanzo’s loose midnight locks. If the night couldn’t get better, it did. For Hanzo began making the sweetest purr deep in his throat. Maybe it was a hum. The whiskey was doing its job though. If Jesse thought it was a purr, the alcohol only confirmed it more.

“Shouldn’t you be on top, Shimada?” Again, that teasingly slow drawl came back as Hanzo’s eyes fell closed in bliss to the petting. “I mean, yer always so commanding when we’re haulin’ ass in the day.” A chaste kiss was shared between the two. Christ, Jesse could still taste the hard whiskey on Hanzo’s lips. It was intoxicating, almost summoning another kiss to be shared.

One was. Tongues danced together between their locked lips. A groan slipped Hanzo as he tried to take a substitute breath during Jesse’s readjustment shifting. Two hands came to wrap about McCree’s shoulders and neck to pull him closer. God, the heat was incredible. “Am I not allowed to be cared for after working so hard?” It was whispered right in Jesse’s ear. Hanzo’s voice could have been enough to keep the cowboy going for days. How mesmerizing it was not centimeters away from his face.

Right as the two were about to dive into the other’s being, a shrill shriek greeted their ears. It was Angela. But it didn’t sound like a warning cry, or one of fear. Was she… moaning?

Another cry came, louder than the last. A few German swears were thrown to the wind, followed by Genji’s own audible outcry.

“Huh. Guess we aren’t the only ones rolling with the dogs tonight,” Jesse gave his archer a wolfish grin, eyebrows wagging devilishly.

Much to Hanzo’s dismay, the mental image of the force Genji was using to cause his wife such a scream left…unpleasant thoughts. “Do not encourage it. I do not wish to even _imagine_ what my younger brother is doing to cause the dear Doctor such…pleasure.”

“And you said they were sleepin’. Hell, they probably wouldn’t be able to hear us moaning if Genji’s gonna have her screamin’ bloody murder.”

They settled in each other’s arms again. They’d lost track of how many rounds they were at. Somewhere below the double digits, but even that was strenuous in its own merit.

Then Hanzo yawned. By God’s will did that only ruin Jesse’s senses, causing himself to mimic his lover’s own action. “Christ, it’s gotta be past midnight, darlin’. Maybe we should turn in for the night. We’re gonna be hitting Fort Dodge tomorrow. I’mma need you up bright and early to help me get these horses moving.” A soothing, quick kiss came to the two. Although it seemed mundane, it spoke volumes of how far they’d come. How both could share such simple acts in private without hesitation. “And I don’t think Genji or Angie’s gonna be up too early to get their own horses going.”

Jesse roused a chuckle from Hanzo. It was weak, but not forced. He really was exhausted. Luckily for the two, rest would come easy from their labors both outside and within the bedroom.

“Rest up, Hanzo. I don’t plan to leave anytime soon. Just get comfy, darlin’.” Rolling off the archer, Jesse settled to support a spooning Shimada against his chest, face nestled into Jesse’s salty neck. God, Hanzo’s hair was soft. It was like silk to Jesse’s over-stimulated nerves.

For the fourth time of the night, the two settled into a quaint air of silence. Off in the distance, the occasional crying moan came from Genji’s own stagecoach. But the younger Shimada’s furious ravaging of his wife’s body mattered not to Jesse McCree or Hanzo Shimada. For tonight they shared a necessary break, right in the comfort of each other’s arms.

It was too cold.

But at the same time, the air was pleasantly heated for the archer and cowboy to drift into slumber.


End file.
